


Stealing Clothes to Create a Family: A Guide by Emily Prentiss

by tristan_jace



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Canon Compliant, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristan_jace/pseuds/tristan_jace
Summary: 5 times Emily Prentiss wore the team's clothing and 1 time someone wore hersEmily Prentiss was a surprisingly tactile person, and it came as a shock to the team when she began wearing their clothes. It was more shocking when someone wore hers.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan & Emily Prentiss, Emily Prentiss & David Rossi, Emily Prentiss & Spencer Reid, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia & Emily Prentiss
Comments: 31
Kudos: 180





	1. 1. Derek Morgan

**Author's Note:**

> Set after "Legacy" (S02 E022)

“Hey, Prentiss, you alright?” Emily looked up to meet Morgan’s concerned gaze and straightened up from where she had been leaning against the rail. It was an open hotel, her least favorite kind if she was honest, and the group was on the upper level. It was some time after midnight the last time Emily had bothered to look and the cold night air was biting at her skin, but she was far past numb. Physically and emotionally. “Emily?” 

Oh, yeah, Morgan. 

“I’m good,” she said, voice soft and somewhat emotionless. She heard Morgan shuffling forward until he stood next to her close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his large body. Part of her wanted to lean into that warmth, but the other part wanted that numbing cold that kept her from thinking. 

“If you were good you wouldn’t be standing outside in the cold in that thin ass t-shirt,” Morgan replied simply, “you gotta be freezin’, girl.” Before Emily could protest a heavy weight settled on her shoulders and pushed the cold from her body quicker than she could blink, the jacket incredibly soft and dense. She doesn’t say anything and neither does Morgan. The pair stood in silence overlooking the practically empty parking for what felt like hours before the other agent straightened up.

“If you need me, you know which room I’m in, okay? Try and get some sleep.” It was a nice gesture considering Emily was technically still the new girl, and it warmed her more than the large hoodie ever could. She watched Morgan shuffle back into the room he was currently sharing with Reid and sighed softly to herself. It was already late, or early, she supposed, so it wouldn’t matter if she stayed out all night. They were flying back in the morning and she could sleep on the plane if needed, but something drew her back the room where JJ still slept. Truth was, Emily was tired. 

It was the kind of tired that sleep couldn’t fix. It settled in her bones like lead but she found herself moving back inside her room anyway. Emily was exhausted, both mentally and physically, but still pasted on the act of who the team expected each morning. If she couldn’t be okay, then she would at least make them think she was.

Settling on top of the hotel comforter, Emily curled in on herself like a hermit crab inside  ~~Morgan’s~~ _ Derek’s _ hoodie. It was big and still held his warmth, and the agent felt almost safe within it. Emily buried her nose into the hood as she slowly began to feel again, her skin tingling slightly, and breathed in. Derek smelled nice. Masculine and a little like cinnamon, it was nice, calming even. When she woke up from nightmares that felt like something from a Saw movie sometime later, that scent was enough to remind her that she would be okay. 

The next morning JJ was already gone by the time Emily woke up, but that was okay. The blonde woman confused her and she didn’t have the mental capacity for the emotions that came with her. Emily didn’t bother with a shower, just grabbed her bag and trudged down the rickety iron stairs to the SUVs where the others were already waiting. Derek’s hoodie was still anchoring her to the ground as she slid into the passenger seat and met the owner’s eyes. 

“Good morning, princess. Get any sleep last night?” Emily glanced around nervously as she fiddled with the long sleeves that fell far past her hands and then nodded. 

“Yeah, thanks, Morgan.” Her words were genuine and so was his smile. 

“No problem, Emily. Shit happens, you know, we all have those cases.” He held her gaze steadily and there was a mutual understanding there. His case was Carl Buford or anything involving children really, and hers were the brutal ones; the ones that showed the deepest pits of hell reflected onto the surface by earth-dwelling demons. 

Whatever moment they were having was interrupted by Reid climbing into the backseat already talking about something neither could comprehend. The spell was broken, but Morgan still smiled and even Emily managed to return it for a few seconds. Yeah, Emily was going to be okay. 


	2. Penelope Garcia

“People are horrible,” Emily commented over her fourth shot of vodka, words beginning to slur. Derek and Penelope raised their drinks in agreement before downing their respective shots. They had been at a bar near Penelope’s place since they had returned from Woodbridge nearly two hours ago, but they were nowhere near drunk enough. All of their cases sucked, but this one especially. That poor girl…

Emily raised her hand to signal the bartender for another round but then Morgan gently lowered it again. “I doubt you wanna be hungover while you do reports tomorrow.” The female agent pouted at being cut off but the still-sober part of her agreed. Hotch already didn’t seem to like her very much and she doubted he would hungover and grouchy. “I’m gonna get you guys some water.” While Derek danced his way across the floor, Emily turned to Penelope who watched him with a soft smile. 

“Derek always takes me out after a real bad case,” she said quietly, “always lets me drink and cry on his shoulder since I’m not like you guys.” Emily frowned and reached out to pat the other woman’s shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting manner. 

“These cases fuck with us too, we just don’t always cry about it.” No, Emily just got drunk or went to the gym to hit the punching bag until she couldn’t feel her hands. Because that’s  _ so  _ much better than crying.

“I know, I know, it’s just… you guys see the worst of it.” Penelope had her there, so she changed the subject.

“So, what else do you guys do after a bad case?” 

“Usually we go back to my place,” was her reply, which made Emily raise a brow. She had her suspicions about the two but they were always so adamant about being “just friends”. “No, no, not like that! He just holds me while watching a movie or something, not whatever dirty thing you’re thinking, Agent Prentiss.” The two giggled as Derek sidled up beside the blonde and handed them both a glass of water with expectant looks.

“Do I even want to know?” He questioned while they continued to giggle .

“Just tellin’ Emily about our plans for later,” Penelope replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively until he began to laugh as well. 

“You’re a menace, woman,” Derek told Penelope but he was smiling so neither took it too seriously. “Which, reminds me that we’re supposed to be leaving soon. Emily, do you need a ride home?” The agent had left her car at the BAU and drove with Penelope, but she was in no shape to drive anyways. 

“Nah, I’ll get a cab,” she waved them off. 

“Wait, come with us!” Both agents turned to stare at the analyst in confusion and she was quick to continue. “JJ has her hiking, Rossi is probably with some leggy brunette, Hotch is with his family, and even Reid has something. I’m sure Emily doesn’t want to go home to her sad, empty apartment.” 

“Hey!” Emily exclaimed indignantly. “There’s nothing wrong with my apartment.” 

“It’s empty, which is why you’re coming home with us.” Penelope stated in a matter-of-fact tone that left no room for her to argue. Not that it stopped her.

“I really don’t want to intrude,” she tried as the blonde began leading her out of the bar. Derek slung an arm over her shoulders and gave the two his usual charismatic grin.

“What man would turn down two gorgeous women in his bed?” Emily rolled her eyes but the action made her a bit dizzy so she decided not to do it again as Derek helped her into the back of his car. 

“Don’t go thinking you’re gettin’ lucky tonight, mister.” The agent said with narrowed eyes, but Derek only laughed. 

“No worries, Emily, you’re not my type anyways.” Emily stuck her tongue out once his back was turned and devolved into giggling with Penelope in the backseat while he drove them. The ride was a bit of a daze to her alcohol-addled brain but she did have a half-there memory of someone yelling Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl. Now, whether it was her or Penelope, the world may never know. (It was her.)

Somehow Derek managed to get both of them up to the blonde’s apartment with only minor incident, and then they were collapsing onto her surprisingly large bed in laughter. Derek sighed from above them and tugged at Emily’s boot to get her attention. 

“You guys need to change, c’mon,” he wheedled, tapping at the brunette’s ankle until she shrieked at the feeling. “I doubt you want me stripping either of you, so up you get.” 

“Oh, sugar, you can strip me any day,” Penelope flirted, her tone sultry and seductive until she went back to laughing. Eventually she did get up and grabbed Emily’s hand to help her off the couch. “C’mon Em, I have some clothes you can borrow.” 

The clothes in question were a baggy tank top and a pair of fuzzy bubblegum pink pajama pants. At her dubious look, Penelope only shrugged. 

“You can go pantless if you want, I’m sure Derek wouldn’t mind,” she commented. Those pants were on faster than the blonde could blink. Emily debated keeping her bra on but knew that attempting to sleep in the contraption would not be advisable, so she tucked it under her jacket and stood awkwardly at the foot of Penelope’s bed. 

She watched Derek climb in beside her like it was nothing, and it really wasn’t, but Emily wasn’t sure where she fit until Pen patted the empty spot to her left. “You get to be little spoon.” If anyone asked, Emily Prentiss would vehemently deny that she liked being the little spoon. Tonight, she didn’t put up a fight as she crawled in next to Pen and let the other woman wrap and around her midsection. The brunette sighed softly under Pen’s warm weight and found herself drifting off effortlessly to the pair’s steady breathing. 

Emily woke up much earlier than she wanted, sunlight streaming through sheer curtains. She laid there for a moment to bask in the comfort of not being alone after such a shitty case, but then her brow furrowed. 

“Morgan, if that’s your hand on my thigh I will castrate you,” she croaked, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. 

“Sorry,” a distinctly feminine voice whispered, Emily’s mind placing it with Penelope’s face. The hand slowly withdrew and she could hear Morgan’s low chuckle behind her. “Do you feel as bad as I do?”

“Oh,” Emily grumbled, “I feel fine.” In fact, she was kind of okay even. 


	3. Spencer Reid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes Place after 3rd Life (S03E12)

“Reid?” The young genius hadn’t said a word since leaving California, not even once they boarded the jet. Emily hadn’t known how quiet it could be without Reid filling the silence. “Spencer?” She tried again, this time gaining his attention. 

“Yeah, uh, what?” It was an out-of-character response from the usually articulate young man and it made Emily’s heart ache for him. 

“Let me give you a ride home,” she said softly, shaking her head when he opened his mouth to argue. “There’s nothing you can do here, so come on before I have to carry your skinny ass out.” Spencer huffed but slung his satchel over his shoulder nonetheless, so Emily took that as a win. They took the elevator down to the parking garage where she nudged him into the passenger seat of her car like a baby bird. 

After a whispered address from Spencer, Emily drove through the streets much slower than normal since he always seemed so afraid of her driving. A snail’s pace was a small price to pay for his comfort. She let Spencer lead her up to his apartment and made a point not to seem too nosy once he unlocked the door. Unsurprisingly, there were books and journals scattered throughout the apartment but still had a sense of organization to it.

“Uh, would you like to stay? I was just gonna order some take-out, but if you have other things to do, I get it. I mean, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang out with me,” Spencer rambled, which drew a small laugh from the brunette. 

“Spence, I’ll stay if you want me to. Why don’t you go change or shower while I order food,” Emily replied, “Chinese okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He turned and disappeared down the hall, but then peeked his head back around the corner with a surprisingly soft expression. “Thanks, Emily.” She returned the smile before pulling her phone out to dial the closest Chinese restaurant that delivered and ordered their favorites. She heard the distant sound of water and assumed he was taking a shower as she suggested. 

While she waited, Emily approached one of the numerous bookshelves and ran her fingers over the spines. Some were obviously old while others still looked fresh off the press, but none had a speck of dust on them which spoke to the genius’s dedication to them. She vaguely registered the water turning off and tried to appear casual as she observed the titles, but then let herself relax. This was Reid, her friend, and partner. He needed the real Emily tonight. 

“You could borrow one if you’d like.” His voice was low and soft, almost like he was trying to keep himself from screaming. Which, made complete sense to the brunette. 

“Any recommendations?” Spencer hummed and turned to pluck two books from the shelf behind him. “ _ Les Misérables _ and  _ Cakes and Ale _ ?”

“You mentioned not having read the book one night when we were out with Morgan, and  _ Cakes and Ale _ is just a good book,” he said with a slight shrug. “Plus, the protagonist, Rosie, reminds me a bit of you.” 

“I’ll read it first then.” Emily smiled softly at the tawny blond and took the books only to set them on the coffee table. “Food should be here soon, Lo Mein, right?” 

“Thanks, uh, if you wanted to take a shower while we wait that’d be fine,” Spencer stated, “you have been on a plane for six hours.” 

“Nah, I left my bag in the car anyways.” 

“I can go get it! You should be comfortable, you know since you’re indulging me.” Emily took two steps toward the genius and ran a hand through his damp hair. 

“More like you’re indulging me, Boy Wonder.” He flushed under her smile and shrugged. “Okay, if you go get it just set it inside the door.” 

Spence beamed, showing more emotion then since leaving the high school. “I’ll be back, feel free to use my stuff then.” Emily watched him leave before slipping into his bathroom and stripping off his clothes. She chuckled at the science puns on the shower curtain and then turned on the water with relative ease. The female agent stood under the warm spray for a few minutes before turning the heat all the way up until it stung. 

“Uh, Emily, I’m setting the bag on the counter,” Spencer murmured, “my eyes are closed, I swear.” Emily chuckled once the door shut and focused on the bottles sitting precariously on the shelf of the genius’s shower. There were three bottles, one shampoo and the other conditioner of obviously high quality. The final bottle was a minty body wash that tingled her skin as she dragged the loofa across her chest and she made a mental note to look into the brand. 

Emily finished quickly and dried off with one of Spencer’s surprisingly soft towels. She tugged on a pair of yoga pants she wore to sleep and a baggy shirt from her days at Yale but huffed when she realized she had no clean socks. It wouldn’t be an issue if Spencer’s apartment wasn’t cold enough to keep an Eskimo happy, or had hardwood. Deciding to suck it up, Emily tossed her dirty clothes into her go-bag and then rejoined the genius in the living room where an array of cartons were arranged on the coffee table.

“Here,” he said, tossing something in her direction that she barely caught. “I know my place is pretty cold.” Brow furrowed, Emily turned over the projectile and smiled when she realized it was a pair of Doctor Who themed fuzzy socks.

“I didn’t take you for a fuzzy sock-kinda guy,” the brunette observed as she plopped down beside him. She took the offered carton of sesame chicken and chopsticks with a soft “thanks” and turned her attention to the program on TV. It was some documentary on draining the Bermuda Triangle and she found herself more interested than expected. They ate in relative silence, no facts from the resident genius which was mildly concerning, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. 

Once empty cartons littered the table and the movie ended, Spencer paused his DVR and turned to Emily. “You’re free to go if you want.” His tone was casual but she could read beneath the words. 

“Yeah, I could, but they’re draining the Titanic next,” Emily replied, “and I don’t know about you, but the unsinkable ship was my childhood obsession.” Spencer tried to hide it, but she could see a grateful smile tugging at his thin lips. 

After twenty minutes of slightly tense sitting, neither one touching the other, Emily huffed and faced the lanky man. “Alright, get up for a second.” He was visibly confused but did as told nonetheless while the brunette stretched out on the couch before patting the space next to her. “Come be my little spoon, Doctor Reid.” She tried not to laugh at the blush gracing his cheeks as he sat down next to her in stilted motions, but then he laid down stiff as a board and she couldn’t hold it in. 

“I don’t bite,” Emily teased, “just relax.” Slowly, Spencer untensed and rested his head against her chest as he curled his knees toward his stomach. Emily carded her fingers through his hair as they watched the movie and smiled to herself when she noticed that he had fallen asleep. Knowing that she wouldn’t wake him up unless the building was on fire, Emily settled in and let her eyes fall shut with a soft sigh. Spencer was going to be okay.


	4. 4. Papa Rossi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damaged" (S03 E14) The after-epsiode bar scene that never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it 12:58 am as I'm posting this? Yes. Do I have to work at 8 am? Also yes. I just really wanted to update this story tbh.

They were drinking. It was the only explanation that Emily could give that would justify agreeing to go home with Rossi. It was David Rossi of all people, the man behind the majority of fraternization rules of the FBI. Emily shouldn’t have been surprised. 

They had returned from the Galen home mere hours ago and Derek immediately whisked everyone off to Stucky’s, minus Hotch who wanted to see his son before it got too late. 

Rossi was surprisingly chipper after solving the case that had haunted him for nearly twenty years and bought the first round of shots while he nursed a bottle of Scotch at the bar. Derek and Pen were dancing on the floor, JJ was kicking ass at the pool table in a shirt that rode up high enough to reveal a small tattoo above her left hip, and Spence had even made a few friends in a corner booth. Emily sat at a lone table, idly swirling the whiskey in her glass until she stopped thinking so hard. She couldn’t imagine being like Rossi, having a case hang over her until it consumed her. Hell, she couldn’t imagine being in the BAU as long as he was, only to come back after escaping the horror. 

“I thought I was supposed to be the stereotypical older agent nursing a drink in the dark.” Emily startled slightly at Rossi’s sudden appearance but made sure to mask it well. 

“There’s no limit to how much dark-and-twisty a team can have, Agent Rossi.” Emily replied simply, giving the man a sideways smirk. 

“Not too happy this evening,  _ Agent Prentiss _ ?” She sipped her drink, the bitter liquid settling in her stomach. 

“I’m here,” was all she could say. Rossi’s eyes were on her, heavy and knowing, but he didn’t say anything for a few tension-filled seconds. Emily’s eyes were glued to JJ across the dance floor. The blonde laughed with Derek and Garcia, one hand grasping a glass of water while the other wrapped around her stomach. The stomach that would start to swell in a few weeks time. She must have felt Emily’s gaze because blue eyes rose to meet hers and JJ smiled, eyes crinkling around at the corners. The former spy couldn’t help smiling back despite the regret eating away at her heart like acid. 

“She’ll be a good mother. Will’s a lucky man.” The mention of the sandy-haired detective made Emily’s blood boil and she clenched her glass until her knuckles went white.  _ Will-fucking-LaMontagne Jr., the bane of my existence _ . Will wasn’t a  _ bad _ guy per say, just not the right one for JJ. Not that Emily thought anyone was good enough for JJ. “Dontcha think?” 

“Huh?” Rossi raised a brow at her as he swirled his scotch. 

“Don’t you think JJ will be a good mother?” Oh. 

“Yeah, totally.” She knew the blonde would be phenomenal. No one else was as loving as JJ or as protective, so yeah, she was going to be the best mom any kid could have. “She’ll be perfect.” Emily slowly sat the glass down, no longer interested in drowning her sorrows in a dive bar when she had perfectly good mind-numbing Absinthe at home. 

“You ever going to tell her that?” 

“Nope,” Emily replied, popping the ‘p’ with more force than necessary. “Tell the others I went home, okay?” With that the agent slid off the barstool and out of the bar silently, praying to any god above that she didn’t stumble. She debated catching a cab versus walking since she had been drinking, and in the end settled on walking in the hopes that the DC chill would make the dizziness fade away. 

Emily reached the end of the block when her name was called and she turned to find Rossi driving toward her in his stupidly expensive Jaguar. 

“I’m taking you home,” he said once he was within distance, his tone brokering no argument. She didn’t bother to try and climbed into the passenger side. The houses and buildings blurred together until they became mansions, and Emily realized she was nowhere near her apartment. When they pulled into Rossi’s driveway she turned to arch a brow at the older man. 

“This is not my apartment, Rossi.” 

“I never said we were going to your apartment,” he replied cheekily. The Italian slid out of his car and Emily followed suit albeit with less grace. 

“No, you said you were taking me home,” she recounted, though followed him up the steps as. 

Rossi craned his neck to look back at her as he unlocked the door. “Yes, but I never said to  _ your _ home specifically. So, are you coming inside or would you like to sleep in the bushes?” 

“Well, with your wonderful hosting, who could say no?” Emily asked drily, sliding past the man and into his mansion. “Why am I here, exactly?” She watched Rossi drape his suit jacket over the back of a chair and mimicked him as he sat. 

“No one is ever alone after a case. Aaron is with his son, Morgan and Garcia are together, Reid is meeting with his other nerd friends, and Jennifer went home to Will.” His words were like a knife that twisted with each syllable, and she wondered if it showed. “You don’t seem to like Will too much.” 

“I have no opinion,” was the diplomatic answer that sounded more like Ambassador Prentiss than Emily. 

“Now, I don’t believe that. Personally,” the other agent began, “I don’t think he’s right for Jennifer. She doesn’t love him.” Emily attempted to appear unaffected, but she wasn’t sure how well that worked in her inebriated state. 

“She’s happy.”

“Maybe, but are you?” Rossi countered. Her blood ran cold and her eyes hardened.

“Of course, I’m happy for her.” 

“That’s not what I asked, Emily.” She knew that, and also knew that he wouldn’t like her answer. “Why haven’t you told her?” The brunet choked out a laugh and shook her head.

“Sorry, what should I have said? Hey, JJ, I know we’re supposed to be the  _ best _ of  _ gal pals _ , but I think you’re really pretty. Leave your baby’s dad and be with me instead?” She scoffed. “Yeah, that would go over real well.” Rossi was quiet for a few moments and Emily wanted to squirm under his heavy gaze. 

“I had my suspicions when I came back because you two looked at each other a little too long to just be gal pals, as you put it. So, I watched.” Emily listened despite wanting to tune out the useless words. “I doubt the others would recognize that look on your face, except for Aaron maybe, but it was clear as day to me. You love Jennifer, don’t you?” And just like that, every single emotion that Emily Prentiss held under lock and key escaped. The tears started slowly at first, welling up at the bottom of her eyes, and then streamed down her face until she began to sob. 

Emily hated crying, but  _ loathed  _ the action when done in front of people. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her body’s reaction to being sad. The couch dipped to her life and then a pair of arms were around her shoulders, holding her down. Rossi murmured Italian in her ear that her brain couldn’t bother to translate, but it helped to calm her down enough for the sobs to turn to hiccupping gasps. 

“I love her so much,” she whispered, fingers clutching at Rossi’s dress shirt. Finally saying it out loud was like the anchor unwrapping from her ankle, and she could start swimming to the surface. Emily wasn’t sure how long she cried in Rossi’s arms, but when she slowly sat up her eyes ached almost as bad as her head. 

“Feeling better?” 

She swallowed and honestly said, “Not really.”

“Well, you need to sleep, so maybe the obvious solution will present itself to your eyes.” If she had the willpower, Emily would roll her eyes. Instead, she let Rossi lead her upstairs to a guest bedroom and settled awkwardly on the bed. “I’ll grab you some clothes, make yourself at home, Emily.” She flopped back on the bed and waited, her eyes tracing the pattern on the ceiling. Something landed on her stomach with a barely audible ‘oomph’ and Emily found it to be a pair of sweatpants and a USMC t-shirt. 

“Thanks,” Emily croaked, catching Rossi’s eye before he closed the door. 

“You can thank me by not letting this opportunity pass you by, Emily. Sleep well.” The door shut behind him with a soft click and then she was alone. Huffing to herself, Emily changed into the clothes and observed herself in the bathroom mirror. His sweatpants were a little long on her and the shirt was loose, but they smelled like his aftershave and it comforted her just a bit. 

The young woman climbed back into the large bed and huddled under the thick comforter despite the warm house, and pulled a pillow to her chest. As she closed her eyes, Emily thought about blonde hair and baby blue eyes.


End file.
